Serendipity Part Trois

Serendipity: (noun) finding something good without looking for it.

Just to recap, in part one and deux of Serendipity, I mentioned some of the hidden treasures which the Château has gently yielded, whether by chance, or whether the restoration has nurtured her from a long sleep, and a feeling of trust has been forged to once again believe in a future together.

We have discovered many treasures along the restoration journey, such as painted beams underneath plaster, quite by 'accident', or the hole in the ground leading to goodness knows where, and the wax seals on the doors, tied once with tricolour ribbons to prevent entry into the rooms after the Revolution. Or the story of the family crest, scratched out or erased with white paint, removing any traces of the original family's aristocratic past. 

And now, following on, this story is about the Salon de Rose - a beautiful soft pink wood panelled room. It is immediately to the right when you walk in the front door.

Constructed under the strict guidelines of 1700's neoclassical architecture, and aristocratic interiors, it is orchestrated around the doors and windows. Main structural lines intersect in the middle of the room which established the position of the fireplace. And to enhance these lines, tall mirrors were set above the mantle. 

I can almost see a young women sitting in front of the mirror, her hair raised, carefully curled and powdered, in a spectacular manner around a wire framework and adorned with feathers, fabric and perhaps fresh flowers. Meanwhile her face covered with white lead and her cheeks rouged pink. Afterwards, she steps into her gown, and it is stitched into place, after choosing a delicate bow or ribbon with which it is attached. 

Then one day, many years later, the ply wood crumbled and fell from the 'salon de rose' walls. It revealed blue, grey and white brushstrokes, hidden away from a by-gone century.

Excited and delighted, the gorgeous Frantz, the art restorer from Paris, and I picked away the rotten timber, tearing it down.

I could see and smell the pressed muddy brown shaped mushrooms of mould. It was musty and strong, falling from the wall as we disturbed its lurking presence behind the panelling. 

And underneath was a magnificent fresco. 

The filagree shapes, graceful and florid, rise about two metres high, I should think. Without a long ladder I can't be sure.

This type of elaborate fresco was perhaps unusual for a country Château. The 18th Century was keen on the countryside, a simple getaway from the clique of the French court. But then again, levels of pomp reflected social status!

The original owner, Louis Gaspard de Salles was a Marquis and a member of the Noblesse de Robe, and hence, a high display of luxuriousness and lavishness was required in his home. Whether it be in the display of interior decoration, porcelain, horses, etc...

Anyway, the snippet of history aside, I suppose now the question remains: do we remove the pink panelling to reveal what is underneath? And, why was it covered up in the first place? 

This week I have an appointment with the archives office in Foix, where I hope to find the answer to this last question and more. The French love paper work, and I expect renovations which have taken place over the past 300 years are probably still in the top drawer of the local village filing cabinet!

I look forward to adding this project to Tonio's wish list at the restoration workshop in July (http://www.messors.com). 

"We can dream, create, and build the most wonderful place in the world, but it takes people to make the dream a reality."

- Walt Disney.

The Château continues to lead us on its adventure...

A bientôt,

Chateau de Gudanes. 

Bonne Année!

These photos courtesy of Raquel Tullá  www.raqueltrulla.com

Serendipity Part Deux

Following on from Part One, are more discoveries amidst the restorations. First is the "black hole", found beneath the rotten wooden floor boards of the ground floor, next to the interior medieval tower. This tower, which dates to the 16th century, belonged to the fort which previously stood on the land, before Château de Gudanes was built. Louis Gaspard de Sales, the original owner of the Château, incorporated the tower, amongst other elements belonging to the fort, into the design of his new home. 

Upon the discovery of the hole, our Catalonian builders dug and dug further, trying to uncover what lay beneath and its purpose. In the end though (at 6 meters deep) it was getting far too deep and dangerous to delve any more downwards. We decided to stop and let the dust settle until it could be excavated more professionally at a later date. For now, it is being temporarily covered. 

The reason for the existence of the hole is still a mystery, the Château choosing not to reveal herself to us just yet. 

Legend has it though that a tunnel exists between the Château and the local village. Originally we thought that perhaps this could be it. Another possibility, is that the hole functioned as a refuse pit, or water hole, during the occupation of the original fortress. It may then have continued to be used by occupants of the Château. 

Whatever the case, as I sifted through all the dirt that had been unearthed I found a wide assortment of many bits and pieces... Perhaps these could be the key to the holes design? 

In Part one, I also introduced Frantz Wehlré - the restorer from Paris. Frantz departed Paris one fine morning, after declaring in an email that he "was falling in love with this castle and would be enchanted to work on such a beautiful project". I picked him up from the train station just down the road, and was mystified as to how someone could arrive on the overnight train looking so good. But then again, I am in France!

If you don't believe me, just check out his photos below! They were taken at his workshop in Paris. 

As we wandered through the Château, Frantz noticed remnants of enormous red wax seals clinging to many of the old oak doors. He explained that, following the French Revolution, rooms were sealed by the authorities. A wax seal was placed on each door, with the ends of a tricolour ribbon attached beneath each seal. If the seal was broken then it be apparent that security had been breached and someone had entered illegally. 

Frantz also discovered more frescoes, upon investigation behind the timber clad walls of "le salon de rose". And, since he left, he has been working on a plan for the rooms, in particular for the future café. I look forward to sharing these with you soon in "Serendipity Part Trois". 

À Bientôt! 

Château de Gudanes. 

Serendipity

Serendipity: (noun) finding something good without looking for it. 

Serendipitously, the Château continues to reveal its past, drawing us closer to unravel and untangle the memories dwelling within its silence. Many discoveries have been stumbled upon quite by chance, as in this case where plaster simply fell from the wall, revealing a 17th century painted fresco (below).

Or, unearthed and examined with the help of expert restorers and historians. The past, that which is right before our unskilled eyes, unfolds, shown and explained with such respect and tenderness.

Two restorers recently joined us onsite, Claudie Thomas from Toulouse and Frantz Wehlré from Paris. Frantz departed Paris one fine morning, declaring in an email 'he was falling in love with this castle and would be enchanted to work on such a beautiful project.'  I picked him up from the train station, just down the road, mystified by how someone can arrive looking so good, on an overnight train. But then again,  I am in France...  

Claudie opened her fascinating portfolio to pages of photographs, detailing the work she has done to preserve and reconstruct frescoes and painted effects on the walls and ceilings of historic monuments worldwide. Claudie teaches these techniques to fine art students in Toulouse and eager to involve them in the restoration.  Frantz stood and looked on, in awe of Claudie's portfolio, despite the centuries of painter decorator restorers in his family. 

Walking through the Château, in the company of restoration experts, is a history and architectural lesson all in one. I listened attentively, wishing I could keep up with fast French, but I'm still at a stage where I am translating word by word.

I found, that despite the many times I  had walked past this fountain in the front salon (below), I had never contemplated its use. Frantz explained that cold drinks (I'm thinking champagne!), and ice-cream, would have stayed chilled for hours, kept cool in the ice filled marble basin, and refreshingly served on long, hot, Pyrénée summer days, in forest green glassware. The glassware that we in fact found inside the "hole in the ground". The remains were likely 17th century, perhaps venetian, with twisted patinated stems, now displaying signs of an iridescent sheen, from the effects of time and burial.

Nor had I noticed the small detail in the fireplace, or the painted marble effect behind the old wood trim.

As we continued 'le tour' Claudie talked of the architectural changes, which took place during and after the French Revolution, in particular the destruction and erasing of family crests in the noble estates of  aristocratic families. Walking towards the northern aspect of the Château, Claudie recognised such defamed painted beams.

The white paint on the front beam (left of the picture)  conceals the family crest. The beam above the windows has had the crest erased, almost centre of the windows.

 Wood coloured paint and scratching conceals the family crest to both beams ( right side of picture). 

White paint erasing the family crest.

Later that day,  Frantz, set to work, collecting paint samples and accessing the extent of prior water damage to frescoes and painted walls. Claudie returned to Toulouse eager to incorporate student workshops onsite in 2015.

The passion they felt in life for restoring and painting was boundless. Frantz went home on the train, back to Paris, promising to return, falling in love with a castle after all. 

That evening I sat on the Château steps and thought about the stumbling upon and the  tripping over some discoveries along the way, knowing there is more to unveil with frescoes, beams and painted walls behind plaster and placard waiting patiently to be brought to light.

Dreaming and wondering, I imagine the Château being the mastermind and measurer of its own serendipity, not as a commander or master, but to gently steer and guide the journey, allowing time to remember the past and giving longing for the future.

Bon week-end

Chateau de Gudanes 

Fabulous Finds At The Fleas

Flea markets are all the go in France during summer. Signs are placed on every street corner and roundabout, advertising the 'vide-greniers' to be held at  local villages each Saturday and Sunday.  I can't wait for the weekend to arrive.  It's a flea market feast, and a restorers paradise! There are endless treasures to be found, as the unlimited supply of attic wares keep magically appearing, filling avenues of car parks and village streets. 

It's as if a curiosity circus has come to town and set up shop, each smallholder displaying their odds and ends.

Mostly I'm a voyeur - and amazed at what I see. A Horlogerier, or clock fixer, with a battered and faded, old 2CV, showed me his bag of restored timepieces. His hands were cracked and weathered like old leather wristwatch bands, and moved slowly like the second hands of the fobs, as he dipped into his worn burgundy, velvet bag, and gently placed his timely treasures onto the old oak table. I was in a bit of a hurry to 'not miss a thing at the market' but time moved slowly for this Frenchman. So I curbed my impatience and listened, as he explained the works and history of each piece, with so much  pride and excitement, as if seeing each for the first time. As I held each watch, his four legged companion next to me growled and starred - a faithful watchdog!

Hungry, I decided it was time for a quick crepe tasting - fresh, soft, with a crunchy buttery edge, followed by an intense flavour of grand mariner in the centre (I'm not going to settle with sugar and lemon!). When in France...

Of course, music played. I could never resist the sound of an accordion - my mum used to play.

 Reflecting on what I have seen, I feel content having passed on certain items:

Acido Arsen!!;

Matching luggage;

and a broken horse wagon.

I ended up with a few treasures though!

But had to leave the greatest love behind...

À bientôt

Château de Gudanes

Our First Party July 2014

A few days ago I started to write about the party which was recently held at the château, not hosted by us, but by our builder, Monsieur Noray and his team. And a shindig it turned out to be: a night of fine cuisine, wine, spirits, music and happiness. Local residents, international authors, and village Mayors joined the celebration. The château warmed and charmed us all, perhaps a sign of its former life.

But today I received an email from one of our facebook family, Caroline. I read her email and was speechless. Caroline had translated an article written in a local paper in 1896 which described so beautifully a party held at Château de Gudanes. After reading this, I simply stopped typing my party story and instead felt the need to share the story written over 100 years ago, aptly titled ' The Workers Party'. 

I'm hoping you have a little time to read this. It's inspiring, the words winding their way to the wonders of wisdom. 

 L'Express du Midi 

Tuesday, July 28th, 1896

Regional news, Ariège

A workers' fete

It probably still counts for a lot, even in these democratic times, to have a prestigious name; But it is even better to live up to it. It is all very well having a great fortune; but it is even better to use it usefully and nobly.

These philosophical reflections often came to mind when I attended the memorable, sparkling fete which was held last Saturday at Chateau de Gudanes.

Gudanes is a chateau dating from the time of Louis XIV, situated in the middle of the Haute Ariège, overlooking the village and the valley of Les Cabannes, between the spa towns of Ax and Ussat-les-Bains.

The setting certainly was beautiful.

Opposite was the fertile plain of Saint Martin; on the left, the hilly, grand avenue which leads from the church up to the chateau, beneath a dome of thick branches.

On the right, behind the beautiful, large property, the valley of the Aston, so vast, so cool, where the sound of the torrent merges, day and night, with the noise made by the many hammers from the Chateau-Verdun factories.

Add to this the fact that it was a splendid evening, that the night was calm and peaceful, and that at one moment the moon suddenly appeared from behind a nearby peak and lent its pale clear light to the fete.

 The Chateau provided a wonderful backdrop. 

 The great courtyard, and the large rectangular lawns, which the chateau terrace looks down on, formed an exceptional ballroom. Almost three thousand Venetian glass lanterns hung above the heads of the dancers or were strung between the trees of the grand avenue, giving the party a fairy tale atmosphere.

As rockets and fireworks were let off from half-way up the nearby mountainside, and roman candles lit up the old ruins of Chateau-Verdun, carriages arrived by the grand avenue, filled with dancers from Ussat, followed by a group of donkeys from Ornolac, which were also decorated with different coloured lanterns.

The ball was open to all, and from one end of the valley to the other, everyone had hastened to participate in the joyful festivities. The policeman in uniform rubbed shoulders with the bourgeois gentleman in evening suit, and the elegant working class girl stood opposite the country woman in her Sunday best. All the houses had emptied and the whole community was there, with no distinctions of class or political opinion.

For whom or what was this cheering crowd? Which saint's day was being celebrated? Was it some sort of local festival?

It was none of these things. The reason for all this pomp and joy was the homecoming of Monsieur Xavier Baudon de Mony with his bride.

To tell you the truth, it seemed as if the entire valley had made it a point of honour to compete against each other in order to provide a reception and a welcome worthy of the daughter of our Ambassador in London. 

What was particularly interesting and truly heart-warming about the whole event was this:

It was not the lord and lady of the chateau who threw the party, wishing to include the local population in their happiness.

The fete was organised in their honour by the local agricultural and industrial communities.

Here is a show of gratitude by the people, which upholds that well-known saying: one good turn deserves another.

 I am a little bit of a philosopher, and sometimes, in my spare time, an incorrigible optimist.

 So when I managed to tear myself away from all the excitement, and return to the calm of the peaceful night, I kept thinking about what I have told myself many times before: If all great landowners had this fine attitude of living on their property, and if all factory owners lived amongst their workers, if all those who have inherited a fortune knew how to use it to improve the lives of the people around them, things would get much better...

We gave Monsieur Noray some Australian wine, vegemite and boomerangs. And guess what he shared with us on the night: a boomerang represents: what goes around comes around! Truly spoken from his heart.

Our experience renovating in France couldn't be better.

à bientôt, et merci Caroline,

Château de Gudanes